


the world spins upside down

by gael_itarille



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25323406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gael_itarille/pseuds/gael_itarille
Summary: They always say actions speak louder than words.
Relationships: Irina Jelavić & Karasuma Tadaomi, Irina Jelavić/Karasuma Tadaomi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 109





	the world spins upside down

**Author's Note:**

> A new Irina & Karasuma fic! It's been a while sicne I've written for these two, and I hope you like this! This fic doesn't have much plot, but I thought it was cute. 
> 
> Enjoy! xx

God- he loves her.

He loves her more than rain loves the spring; more than she loves her lavish perfumes and expensive lipsticks.

He loves her the way designers love leather; the way the sun loves to filter through her hair in a soft halo.

He doesn't tell her that, though. To do so would be ludicrous.

These feelings add up; pile on- and before he knows it, he's lost to her.

She has him strung along every whim and every request of hers- whether it be to take her to the mall or to the car dealership so she can take a joyride in a new model. She is the well-read but still crisp book on his shelf- the unopened bottle of wine in his pantry or the pen that never runs out of ink. She is the details of life; the ones that are gifts that one never really bothers to notice.

Irina, in simple terms, is a wisp of a woman that dances around their halls in lacy numbers and ironed blazers and bags he thinks cost a fortune. Or the crackle of the fireplace and simultaneously the aloe that soothes a burn- every bit as fluid as she is strong.

_"Simple terms"_ \- she is too complex to be fit in such a box.

Loving her isn't easy, he knows. She wakes from nightmares and garish terrors that he cannot always chase away- too harrowing for words and too personal for touch- and it's often that he cannot do anything in those times but sit there. She always chides him on his inability to communicate. Words don't flow for him the way they do for her- not shiny and faultless like the ones that escape her lips. His are gruff- boulders of meaning with rough edges.

She is a pebble. Or- many pebbles. Thousands of small pebbles riddled with small meanings until he has a message spelled out in mosaic. And that's how she's always been, in his mind at least.

Her first outfit was a blue and black ensemble, complete with mules that he never really approved of but respected for the amount of terrain they walked. Jelavić talked about the fabric a lot; about the hemming and the scalloped neckline of her camisole and the fact that she needed to buy new buttons with silver embossing. 

The second was a beige turtleneck and a long, maroon skirt- more conservative than her previous garb and an entirely different facet of his colleague. She wore pearl earrings occasionally -and he only knows because she complained about them- and sometimes she'd prop her feet on the table to show off the boots she'd bought somewhere. 

The third-one he vividly remembers- is that red dress. She's worn many red things- varying shades that he doesn't know- but the dress she wore to the island is the one that sticks in his memory. 

It's nice. 

The fabric was smooth and goodness, he had to _carry_ her up the cliff- but part of him thinks it was worth it; to see her that way. 

And he knows once he starts justifying unnecessary actions, he's in deep. 

Really- if all the thoughts inside his head spilled out; told to her the way typical lovers speak- he'd be screwed. 

So, as she stands in their apartment, inspecting an old teapot he bought years ago, Karasuma smiles.

He'd rather just show her instead.

The ring feels awfully heavy in his pocket anyway. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please, tell me what you thought in the comments!


End file.
